DethFriday
by rainynites
Summary: I's knows you donts smokes weed. I's knows this. But I's goings to gets yous high today. Because its Fridays, you donts have a jobs & yous gots nothings else to do."


I'm not so much as of new to the writing game, but it's been a minute since Ive wrote a story & this is my first one in a long time. Whether this story'll make you laugh, cry, maybe even inspire. I hope you enjoy it!

I do not own DethKlok or Friday. Some scenes based on the movie in this story are similar and the dialogue differs if not changed.

But I repeat, I do not own. This is just a parody.

_**"I's knows you dont smokes weed. I's knows this. But I's goings to gets yous high today. Because its Fridays, yous donts have a jobs & yous gots nothings else to do."**_

With momentarily vision impaired eyes, he made an attempt to glance over at the alarm clock of which he could determine was now reading 7:30am. Friday morning to be exact. you'd think a guy like Pickles, who's last events of the night before were of drinking liquor by the proof, wouldn't be up until the day was almost through, but a guy to be stupid enough to get fired from his job, on his day off, mind you, would be doing anything else but sleeping in even with being still somewhat intoxicated. He rolled over towards the edge of the blue sheeted bed and planted his feet on the cold tile surface, causing him to shiver on impact. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, a wife beater and red basketball shorts. His redish orange hair that was usually tied back in a ponytail was wild on his head. "_Damn_.". He mumbled, heading into the kitchen, closing the door to his room behind him. He plopped himself down at the kitchen table, eyeing his brother Seth, who sat across from him. The smaller red head looked up from the newspaper at his brother. "Heh. I see ya ass gat wasted las' night. You stay drinkin' don'cha?.". Pickles smirked, tieing his hair back into an organized ponytail again. "--Shit, atleast I'm nat bustin' a nut off in a different bitch every 5 minutes. Wit dat kinda shit you pull, I'm surprised da world aint ya kids". Seth was 2 years younger than Pickles, but with all due respect, an attractive guy. He didn't have the long hair that Pickles had, in fact he kept a fresh cut but the man was still damn good looking. The only problem was...he a straight nymphomaniac. The motherfucker ate, fucked, and thought pussy and because of that very reason, it was why he already had 3 kids, kids by different mama's I might add. Seth folded the newspaper and placed it in the middle of the table. He continued to eye his brother. "Dat maybe da case, but motherfucka I gat 2 _jobs_, so nigga put dat shit in ya pipe an' smoke it.". Pickles noticed how Seth had emphasized the word "jobs", and furrowed his brow.

"--Wait, Mah, told you?."

"Nah nigga, I jus' happened ta overhear you talkin' ta Skwisgaar last night."

Pickles sucked his teeth.

"Ya ass better hope Daddy don't find out."

Seth looked over at the clock on the wall and rose from the table. He grabbed the black mug which was full of coffee and perceded to the front door to his car, not forgetting to tell Pickles he'd holla at him later. He could hear the white Infinity drive off until it became a distant sound. Pickles was all fucked up in the game. He didn't have a job and he sure as hell didnt know how he was going to pay the rent this month. He got up from the table and searched through the cabinet for a bowl and some cereal. He grabbed the Fruit Loops box, poured some in the bowl, and looked in the fridge for some milk. They were out. Pickles grunted. "Damn, a nigga cant have 'ah decent breakfast in dis bitch.". He slammed the fridge and sat back down looking at the bowl of milkless Fruit Loops. "Fuck it." He munched on the dry cereal and looked over toward the sound of his Mother coming into the kitchen. She was a slender woman, fair skin, and hair that was usually styled in short bob. Not too bad on the eyes either.

"Mornin' Pickles.". She kissed him on the cheeck then reached to grab a bottle of O.J out the fridge to place in the red bag she sat on the counter.

"--Mornin' Mah.". He said, pausing his munchfest. He looked towards the kitchen door that led to the backroom. He swallowed the few bit of chewed cereal he had in his mouth and look up at his mother.

"Mah, tell me ya didnt tell Daddy, I gat fired". She paused. He didnt think she told him after he begged her, but he had to be sure. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Of course nat, baby.". He chuckled, "Metal". He had started diggin back into his bowl of cereal when the robust voice of his father was calling him. He sighed, got up from the table and walked to his parent's bedroom. He cracked the polish brown door opened and stepped inside.

"Yes si-, Daddy!...Cant ya put some clothes on ferst?".

He turned around, facing opposite of his naked father. grunted, looking through the drawers of the dresser for some underwear. "I dun seen ya naked ass fer da past 23 years, an' ya cant see mine fer 5 minutes?. Look. Ya mom told me ya gat fired yesterday.". Pickles mouthed the word. "shit.". "Now Pickles, how da fuck ya get fired on ya day off?". Pickles looked down at the floor, as if the answer was beneath his feet . "Dey said-". "I dont give 'ah damn wat he,she, said, wat ya need to do is get ya jobless ass up and go look fer another one, specially after them $200 worth of phone calls ya made last month. Yea, dont think I aint seen da phone bill. Who da hell was ya talking to, da president?". he thought for a second_. _"_Lashawna_", he said in his mind. His father, now wearing a shirt and a pair of pants, handed him the newspaper. "Now start lookin fer a job, or I'ma kick ya ass out, now go, I gotta go ta work, unlike ya ass". He took the paper and walked back into his room. He closed the door and threw the paper on the nightstand, knocking the empty Vodka bottle off, which luckily didnt break. He fell backwards on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "_Damnit man_..". He had rose by the sound of a voice that came from the end of the room. "Gets dats ass up, motherfuckers!". He looked over at the window.

It was his homeboy Skwisgaar. Crazy motherfucker was climbing through the window. "Hold up, damn. Look at yer crazy ass, fuck up my curtains why don'cha!". He then reached over by the nightstand and pulled a glock .45 out from the bottom drawer, walked over to the swede and pointed it at him. Skwisgaar stared down the barrel of the gun, looking deranged. "Puts that shits away and brings your ass outsides", pushing the gun out his face. Pickles chuckled, "Yah, next time watch who's window ya ass crawl in". He shuffled through the messy floors, retrieving a black shirt and dark blue navy dickey shorts. He put them on and slid on his black addias before walking out his room to the front door. By now, Skwisgaar was sitting in a chair on the porch. The Swede was a tall skinny guy. He had been friends with Pickles ever since he was still shitting in diapers. He was usually found sporting a black wife beater and gray jeans that hung off his slinder waist. On his feet were black converses, size 12 to be accurate. His blonde tamed hair reached down his back and his eyes were of a water blue color, with vestiges of bags under them, due to his nocturnalness.. Pickles closed the front door behind him and sat down in the chair next to him. "I's thoughts I catch your ass befores yous headed to works".

Pickles stared at him, then over his shoulder. "I gat fired yesterday". Skwisgaar raised his eyebrows. "I's thoughts you were offs.". Pickles scoffed. "I was. Went ova to da place to git my check, gat home, an da next thing i kno', da Manager called me, an said i was fired. Talkin bout dey caught me on camera stealin' books.". He looked back at Skwisgaar, who's mouth was slightly parted.

"Damn, Pickle! Yous a stupids motherfuckers to get fireds on your day offs. Whats the fucks were yous tryings to do, opens a library?." Pickles laughed at Skwisgaar's remark. Really, what the fuck did Pickles look like stealing some damn books?. A dumb motherfucker, that's who. "I's know yous betters than thats!", the swede relaxed his face. Pickles looked at him. "Shit I am. Dey dont gat me on no fuckin camera". The swede looked up and paused--"Heys, hold ups". He rose up and sprinted across the street toward a Black Honda, that had momentarily pulled up and parked. He walked over to the driver's window, which rolled downed, revealing an older aged man. "You sold the bud?". He asked, staring at the Rolex on his wrist. It was Selatcia, but everybody in the hood knew him as Papa. Nobody fucked with him, especially not with his money, but you'd guess he trusted Skwisgaar since he gave him the weed to sell, right?. "Yeahs I dids. Uh, I means I solds some of its, niggas arounds heres are brokes". Selatcia, gave the swede a chastised look. He cocked his head sideways and gave him his attention.

"Either you did or you didnt. Don't fuck with me, Skwisgaar...you smokin my weed?". Skwisgaar's eyes widen. "Whats!?", --"you smoking my bud?". The swede scoffed. "Papas. me, smokes your shit?, man, hells no! I's steals from my Momas, befores I's smokes your shit". Papa relaxed his face, looking back at the Rolex and then back at Skwisgaar. "Yeah ok, whatever you say. I suggest you start puttin' those entrepreneur skills in full affect, nigga. Now get the fuck on, I got business to conduct". The man rolled his window back up and sped off up the street. "-wrinkleds ass bastard". Skwisgaar walked back over to Pickles and sat back in the chair. The red head looked at Skwisgaar and chuckled. "Crazy ass".

They both looked up and saw two women walking their dogs. Skwisgaar, the horney little fuck, grinned. The women, one light skin with brown hair, sporting a red tank top & gray booty shorts was walking a Pit, the other, brown skin, long black hair in a ponytail, wearing a purple tank top & dark blue booty shorts, walking a Doberman, waved at Pickles and Skwisgaar. Their eyes trailing on the women asses like a bunch of fucking dogs in heat.

--"hey"

--"hey"

...The swede looked at Pickles. "Damns, you knows she wanteds to give mes the pussy the others day. Buts I hads to drives my Momas to works." Skwisgaar continued to grin. Pickles snickered, still watching the women. "Which one?". --"The browns skinned ones. Her momas gots an ass. I's hit hers too". "--Her moms? Dood, she's like 50", Pickles gave a distasteful look to Skwisgaar. "I mean, if I'ma fuck an olda lady, she gotta atleast be 40, but 50 nigga? Then again ya jus' a horny motherfucka". He gave Skwisgaar a playful punch in the arm. "Yours Momas lefts yets?". Skwisgaar began reachin in his pocket, waiting for Pickles' reply before pulling out whatever he had inside. "Nah but she bout ta, why?". Skwisgaar grinned at Pickles.

_"I's knows you dont smokes weed. I's knows this. But I's goings to gets yous high today. Because its Fridays, you donts have a jobs & yous gots nothings else to dos."_

The red head scoffed.

"--Anyway, whatcha skinny ass doin up so early?".

"Oh yeahs! I cames over to tells you whats the fucks happened to Knubbler's ass."

--"Wat happened?".

"So yous knows Nathans has had thats niggas scooter for weeks right?

--"Yea."

"Shit, oks so Nathans..."

_**--Flashback--**_

_**s- "Hells yeah, dats 4,5,6, & 3s kings, pays ups!"**_

_**n- "What?.."**_

_**s- "I's folds"**_

_**n- "Shuffle the deck"**_

_**k- "Hey, Nathan." **_

_**n- "Hold my shit, & dont touch nothin"**_

_**k- "Hey man, can I talk to you for a minute?"**_

_**s- "Ohs shit.."**_

_**k- "My uncle wanted me to ask you if I could get my scooter back, he know we cool"**_

_**n- "What scooter?"**_

_**k- "The green one, with the red stripes. The one i let you hold"**_

_**n- "Oh shit, yeah I got you, my bad dawg, its over here"**_

_**k- "Cool, I mean its like both of ours but i need it to use it today"**_

_Nathan turned around and planted his fist right in Knubbler's right eye, causing the skinny man to fall backwards._

_**s- "Damns!!!!"**_

_**n " It's my shit now, motherfucker!!"**_

_Skwisgaar walked over and stood over the stunned sorry son of a bitch. _

_**s- "Yous just gots fucked ups!"**_

_Nathan peered over at Knubbler's uncle who was sitting in the car adjacent of the incident._

_**n- "You wanna some too old man!?"**_

_**k's unc- "No. Boy get your ass in this damn car, told you not to be messing around with these nice people. Hurry your ass up!."**_

_**--Flashback Ends--**_

"Theys both peeled outs. Wes was laffin ours asses offs." Pickles was dying laughing, clutching his sides, looking as if he was about fall over to the side. Knubbler should had just let Nathan take the scooter, rather than try and grow a spine and act tough.. Nathan was the hood's bully, so to speak. You didnt fuck with him atleast you were just asking for a death sentence. Luckily Knubbler lived, he got his ass beat though, but he lived.

Pickles controlled his laughter and looked up at his mother and father, who were stepping out the house. "Pickles, ya father an' I are bout ta go ta work, lock the house up if you leave & tell dat girl you messing wit ta stop playin on my phone. I kno' it's her, I recognize dat little sneaky ass voice of hers. Alright baby. We love ya.".

--" An' dont be sitting around on ya ass all day either Pickles", his father said, looking at both him and Skwisgaar. --"Alrite Daddy".

--"love yall too, have a gud day.".

"Byes Ms. Mollys, ", the swede waved.

"...Yeah. bye Skwisgaar"...

Pickles' parents got in the red Corvette in their driveway and drove off, not forgetting to honk upon their departure. They watched as the car disappeared up the street. "Lets gos overs to my house reals quick". --"Yeah, alright". They both got up, Pickles, not forgetting to lock to door. Skwisgaar stayed 3 houses down from Pickles, so of course it was not a problem getting there, instead of having to deal with the task of walking a damn block if it were other wise. Skwisgaar looked over at the trash cans that were lying on the ground beside Pickles' curb. He scoffed. "Lil Toki gots your ass too, huh.". The red head looked at the cans. "--hell yea, lil punk ass bitch". "He's gots my ass toos. I'ma beats his ass next times i sees the littles fuckers". Walking they had seen Mr. Ofdensen, clipping the hedges. He peered from the square shaped bush and caught Pickles and Skwisgaar's attention. "Uh, excuse me you too, but will you please stay out my yard?. Thank you". The incident happened a few days ago. They were playing touch football and Pickles had threw the ball far out of Skwisgaar's reach, the ball landing in 's yard, which Skwisgaar received, resulting in him trampling over the red roses Mr. Ofdensen had put much work into planting. He moved back behind the hedge and returned to his trimming. "Mans, Charlies be actings like a straight bitch sometimes". "--I kno', right". They reached Skwisgaar's porch. The swede started banging on the metal bar framed door as if he had just ran from the police and was damned frantic to get inside.

-"Momas! Momas!...damn."

A tall swede women wearing nothing but a long t-shirt and pink slippers and hair wrapped in a scarf, appeared at the door.

"Damns, Skwisgaar, give a motherfuckers times. Acts like yous gots sense when knockings on the door!. Whys da fucks you aints use your key anyways?". --"I lefts its. Nows can I's please comes in without yous talkings shit?". The swede pulled the door open and walked in. Pickles, who was leaning on the post, followed right behind. --"Hey, Ms. Skwig_e_lf", Pickles smiled, staring at the swede's mother who now in the kitchen getting a 40 out the fridge. "Heys Pickle". He followed Skwisgaar in the back to his room, closing the mahogany door behind them. Skwisgaars room was typical of that of a,well..hood nigga. The room was covered in posters of naked bitches and almost every picture pertaining to weed. He sat down in the spin chair, watching his homeboy pull out a black box from underneath the bed. "Damn, you is 'ah straight weed-head. All ya do is smoke". The swede who was now rolling up the bud in some paper, stared at the red head with a happy-go-lucky expression..

"Yous see thats okay. Donts be giving a fucks about whats i's be smokings on."

--Wat I'm nat gettin at, is you smokin da weed an' you suppose ta be sellin it. Dats why Papa always on you. He gonna end up fuckin ya ass up.".

Skwisgaar pulled the joint, which was now rolled up and lit, away from his lips. " What the fucks is Papas goings to do?. He said, through inhaled chronic. " I amments scared of thats motherfuckers. As fars as i's am concerns, I's de only motherfuckers dats sellings his shits anyway. He needs a motherfuckers likes me".

Pickles scoffed. --"Ya kno', Knubbler told me he murked a nigga for $2".

"Whats the fucks ever, likes I's said, fucks that fools".He put the joint out in the astray that was sitting on table and placed the black box back underneath the bed. "Comes ons, lets gos to the store. I's wants some snacks".

x_x_x_x_x


End file.
